Silence in the Library
by LexVictoriaX
Summary: She was quite certain that it was these moments she cherished the most. Not that Rose Tyler didn't adore running for her life or saving the Universe, but cuddling with the Doctor was in an entirely different category of incredible.


First real fluff fic, I hope you enjoy! Please leave me some feedback... this kinda stuff is a little out of my comfort zone :P

I DON'T OWN DOCTOR WHO

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SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY

She was quite certain that it was these moments she cherished the most. Not that Rose Tyler didn't adore running for her life or saving the Universe, but cuddling with the Doctor was in an entirely different category of incredible.

It was the way his arm automatically wrapped around her, fingers absently playing with the tips of her hair or rubbing circles on her side; the way he'd lean his head against hers as he peered down at the book in his lap. She'd only be half-reading her own novel, completely distracted when his hands ventured up to massage her scalp.

In those moments, she'd let herself run away with the fantasy that he really loved her. She'd memorize the feel of his pinstriped, tweed suit against her cheek, his breath on her skin when he turned to smile at her, the colour of his eyes and coolness of his skin.

And in those moments, he really did. Not that he didn't love her all the time, but right then; after running for their lives, after an adventure, after possibly almost losing her, the Doctor indulged himself.

It was unhealthy, dangerous, and completely against his better judgement, but he couldn't help himself. He was so tired of running... Sometimes, it was nice to just _be_ with her. To exist in the same space knowing that they meant something more to one another. And so, they would make their way to the TARDIS library, or the telly room, tea in hand, and would cuddle until their hearts' content, neither really paying attention to whatever activity they were supposed to be engaged in.

It was a sham, of course: A comforting lie told to ease his guilt and keep her sane... Because they couldn't be like this all the time. Time itself would not allow it. Circumstance would get in the way. Events would unfold and eventually tear them apart, it was inevitable.

But right then, in those precious few moments, there was no time.

The Doctor and Rose; timeless in the TARDIS.

Rose sighed and put down her book, tired of looking at the letters on the page. She cuddled into her partner, head fitting nicely into the crook of his neck as her right fingers went to lightly brush the brown strands at his nape, her left arm sliding to rest across his stomach. The Doctor leaned back ever so slightly and Rose immediately immersed her fingers in his wild hair.

He bit back a smile, his own hand moving down to his companion's waist, drawing circular patterns over her jumper in a way that made the young woman think he was writing something deliberate. His fingers traced over her body; her waist, her thigh, moving to her knee and back up, a concentrated expression on his face and furrow in his brow as he looked through the novel in his lap. He repeated a specific pattern two or three times before stopping, palm flat against her. The Doctor then rubbed up and down the area as if erasing all he had done. He paused over her waist, hovering over her before simply placing his hand on her body, protecting his work. She ceased her ministrations, causing the Time Lord to regard her curiously.

"All right?"

"Yeah."

It was the kind of 'yeah' that immediately flagged red, her mind whirring with all the possible ways she could attempt to make him feel better. But she couldn't. Not this time. Ignoring the million other reasons he wasn't fine, at the moment the most important one was staring him in the face: He could never have her. Not for her safety. Not for their sanity. Not for his emotional well-being.

These moments would forever be a fantasy.

He was so entirely sick of it: Sick of being alone, and denying himself, and pretending. He was sick of lying to himself and everyone else, but most of all to her. He was so sick of playing this stupid game with her; Rose Tyler, the woman who had renewed his joy of existence.

Was he all right? No. He hadn't been for a long time.

"...Rose?

"Yeah?She adjusted, looking him square in the eye, all the golden and content and innocent. Listening. Always listening. Rose was a brilliant listener (when she wasn't wandering off).

"I...He took a deep breath, the blonde before him becoming more concerned by the second. Rose, I'm not actually..."

He couldn't even say it.

He had slain his own people, destroyed worlds, saved civilizations, and he couldn't even admit he wasn't all right.

But it turned out that he didn't have to.

"What d'you need?She asked softly. Anything you need, we'll get it."

He was scaring her, especially when he leaned away from her and scrubbed his face, either trying very hard to find the right words, or decide if he should say them at all. ..Funny thing,He finally breathed, pulling at his hair, 的 have everything I need right here, in this TARDIS."

Her heart skipped a beat of its own accord, and she ignored it, instead pressing a cheek to his forehead. Saying things like this was a normal occurrence. The words never amounted to anything. Are you feeling ill?"

He was, but not for the reason she thought: his blood was pumping so hard he was certain one of his hearts was going to fail from strain. Not the mention the fact that he felt like he'd vomit at any second. The Doctor shook his head, trying to stay calm. He could handle this. He could handle himself. No, nothing like that. I just..."

He could back out. He could change the subject right then and stay safe. He could keep her safe. He could save them both worlds of heartbreak. He should, no, he _would_ turn back.

It was better for everyone.

But he was dangerously close to her, and it was all too much: their proximity, the burning in his chest, everything. "I... We've travelled for quite a while, yeah? And I think- No, I _know_ that- I mean, I just-Deep breath. Rose, I-"

But for the second time that evening, he couldn't say it. _He couldn't let himself_.

And Rose Tyler knew that. "Does it really need saying?

She always knew exactly what to say. Because she knew him. She knew him and loved him and the swell of emotion that filled his chest was so overwhelming that he pressed his lips to hers unthinkingly, wanting more than anything to communicate how much she meant to him.

Because she was all that he believed in: she was hope and light in the endless dark of the Universe.

She was both his hearts.

He needed her to know that.

Rose was startled for only a moment before she kissed back wholeheartedly, her blood racing and body on fire. His arms wrapped around her completely, her hands immersing themselves completely in his hair as he pulled back only the tiniest bit in order to pepper her mouth with small, deliberate kisses. He nipped at her bottom lip and she squeaked, tugging at his hair in response. He groaned, the book on his lap clattering to the floor as they manoeuvred closer to each other, Rose half-draped across him as he leaned towards her, their bodies pressed together at odd angles. She pulled away then, breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed and brow furrowed. "Rose?" his voice was impossibly small.

"What d'you need?" She whispered again, fingers brushing his fringe away.

He sighed and dropped his head to the crook of her neck, pressing his mouth to the skin there as he took a deep breath. Nothing. "Well," he pulled away, gaze intense and slightly nervous, "there's this human..."

Rose grinned and caught him in another kiss, this one bolder and more brash in its execution. Her tongue across his bottom lip had elicited a groan from the Doctor, his hands gripping her hips as she clumsily moved over him, attempting to get as close as possible. He helped her as she straddled his lap, his hands tangled in her golden hair as her fingers traced his cheeks and jaw and neck.

He sighed as she peppered his jaw with kisses, his hands moving to her hips. His fingers slid underneath her jumper, the slightly cooler skin seared against her own hot flesh. She hummed against him, emotion rolling off of her in waves of raw heat. He could feel each and every one, his superior biology enabling him to taste and qualify every gorgeous love-saturated feeling that tumbled off her body. She was glorious.

His palms were flat against her skin, and the Doctor took the opportunity to splay his fingers over every inch of her he could reach. Rose, on the other hand, set to work on his tie, undoing the confounded thing with some effort before opening his jacket and pressing her own palms flat against his clothed chest, a hand over each heart.

He took this behaviour as an affirmative response to his previous actions and began pushing the material of his companion's shirt up her torso, the clothing becoming bunched and unmanageable the further up it went. Finally, he got frustrated and groaned, pulling away and glaring at the offending piece of matter. 的t won't-"

In one smooth motion, she had lifted the shirt over her head. She was beautiful. Endless soft curves and smooth, pale skin. "Oh," he breathed. She smiled at him bashfully, cheeks turning red as she looked down, hair shielding her face. He smiled fondly, tucking some hair behind her ear. "My Rose."

She beamed. "My Doctor."

Leaning down slowly, the blonde gently pressed her mouth to his, kissing him lazily, unhurriedly. He basked in her emotion, her feelings causing his own to begin rushing over him like a tidal wave. His hands gripped her more tightly, hearts beating out of control. He loved her.

His companion's hand began to work on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with surprising dexterity. She pushed the piece material off his skin, palms immediately flat on his chest, languidly moving up and down his torso.

His skin goose-bumped at the contact. She pulled away then, biting her lip as she looked down at him: flushed and hair askew, eyes dark, lips swollen and red. She had never been so beautiful. Unabandoned, the thought of her leaving suddenly occurred to him: the image of her leaving him alone in his TARDIS to travel the stars alone. He tensed, leaning up to press his lips to hers as if it was the last time they'd ever see each other. He held nothing back, engulfing her in warm emotion, touching her in gentle deliberate ways that communicated how much he cared for her, how much he depended on her... how much he trusted her.

He pulled away then, breathing heavily. She rested her head against his, eyes still closed and reeling. "Doctor, I-" Her eyes fluttered opened and she looked at him, overwhelmed by the fear and emotion in his eyes. Not fear of what they were currently engaged in; his firm grip on her waist attested to that... Fear of something else. "Hey," she breathed, "what's wrong?"

And then the spell was broken, and he was back to his cheerful self. "Nothing," he grinned, giving her a light peck. "Nothing at all."

But Rose wasn't having that. "I will never leave you, Doctor," she said softly, "and if you ever need anything, anything at all, I will always be there for you. You know that, yeah?"

She felt him un-tense beneath her and she slid off of him, cuddling into his side as he looked at her, almost as if he couldn't believe her existence. He pressed his lips to her forehead, nodding against her. What he'd done to deserve this wonderful, amazing, yellow and pink human he'd never know.

But he'd keep her, and love her, because he was selfish.

He'd tell her, too. He'd tell her everyday... Because, as a very wise woman had once written: 'A life void of love is no life at all'.

And he was ready to start living again.

"Rose Tyler, I love you."


End file.
